Growing With You
by That Too
Summary: When Arthur Kirkland was only eight years old, a little American boy, Alfred Jones, was brought into his life.  Of course, at first he thought of him as a little brother, a friend at most.  However, growing up can bring a lot of change of feelings.  UsUk


_Author's note: Ahaha, I haven't written for so long. This is the first thing I'm putting to this account, I believe._

_Anyway_, a_ccording to Himaruya, Alfred is only four years younger than Arthur in human appearance. Well, meaning that Alfred is 19, and Arthur is 23. This is an AU fic that starts when they are both young and, but because I'm a derp, I felt the need to keep their age differences. Don't worry, though, there won't be any pedo-ness. None. But don't worry, they'll get older eventually! So...M for potential future?  
_

_Also, this takes place in England. A place I have never actually been to. So if I make any inaccuracies, please forgive me, as I am a stupid American.  
_

_Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Not me._

* * *

When Arthur Kirkland was eight years old, his mother came into his room to give him an announcement.

"Arthur, dear, do you remember that one American friend of mine that visited us five years ago?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Well, I guess you were little at the time. Well, anyway, she's married now, and she is going to move here to London next week. She has a son a little younger than you, and I told her that you would be willing to watch and befriend him."

"Sure, Mum," Arthur smiled, "I'd be happy to look after him."

"I knew you would," his mother smiled back, kissing her son on the forehead.

* * *

Arthur soon wished that he could take back everything he said about wanting to watch Alfred. The little four year old was easily the bossiest child he had ever met. Sure, he wasn't _really_ a babysitter, being only eight and all, but little Alfred didn't seem to realize this.

"Why you talk so weird?" Alfred asked, pulling on Arthur's sweater. His big blue eyes were curious and innocent, yet Arthur still took offense to the question.

"I most certainly do _not _talk weird!" he replied much more coldly than he should have, "I speak _proper _English, unlike you."

Alfred's face fell for a moment, which suddenly made Arthur regret his harsh words. However, a moment later the littler boy grew a big smile. "Well, _I _like the way you speak!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around the elder, embracing him in a hug, nearly knocking him over. He was about to protest, but decided against it, and simply patted the younger's head. He _was _a cute child, and as the older of the two, he had to act as a role model and behave the best he could.

After a few moments, Alfred let him go, and looked up at him again. "I'm hungry," he said simply.

Arthur sighed. "Well, I'm sure my mum can make us something, in that case," he gave in, grabbing the American's hand, leading him into the kitchen, where both boy's mothers were sitting and catching up.

"You guys having fun?" Alfred's mother asked in a thick American accent that surprised him somehow.

"Yes, Mommy! I looove Arty already!" he exclaimed, hugging him again. Arthur felt himself grow slightly red.

"Well, that's good to hear! So what'd you want, hon?" she asked with a big smile.

"H-he said he was hungry," Arthur responded before the other could answer.

"Oh, Alfie, you are _always_ hungry!" she rolled her eyes with a smirk, "You shouldn't take the nice Englishman's food, dearie." Alfred pouted while Arthur felt himself grow redder.

"Oh, no, that's quite alright!" Arthur's mother responded, standing up, "I made scones earlier for when you'd come over, actually." She walked over to the refridgerator, and took out a plate of scones with a plastic wrap over it, and set them in the microwave for a few seconds. He lit up.

"I love scones!" he exclaimed.

"What's a scone?" Alfred asked curiously, "A biscuit?"

Mrs. Jones chuckled to herself and set a hand on her son's head, "Kinda, sweetie. It's a British thing." _A British thing?_ Arthur wondered. He was_ sure_ that the whole ate scones! They were amazing!

"Oh, weeell, I think I'll just call them biscuits anyways," Alfred smirked. Arthur flinched.

"Well, Alfred, I guess you are going to just have to see for yourself what they are like!" Mrs. Kirkland smiled, opening the microwave door as the timer went off, setting the plate on the table, and removing the wrap. Arthur quickly took one, not even caring about how hot it was, and took a bite. His mom's scones were the best! He couldn't imagine someone _not _liking them!

"Eww, these are icky!" the little boy exclaimed after taking a bite. Arthur was taken aback.

"Be polite!" Alfred's mother scolded, lightly whacking his shoulder, "We're not in America anymore. You have to be more polite and get use to English food."

"Oh, that's quite alright," the other mother lightly laughed off, "Scones definitely aren't for everyone."

"Well, they _definitely _aren't for me!" Alfred whined, "Can I just have a Happy Meal or somethin'?"

Any hope Arthur had for the young boy was then lost.

* * *

Next week Friday, before school, Arthur's mother told him that Alfred was going to spend the night that night.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jones just arrived in England a week ago. They wish to explore London for the evening, and I told them that Alfred could spend the night with us! It'll be good for them, and it will also help you and Alfred grow closer!"

"He's half my age, Mum! A little kid!" he protested, "Why would I want to be close to _him_? Plus, he's a total nuisance!"

She sighed, and sat beside her son. "Sweetheart, you have to understand. He is just a four year old boy who moved halfway across the globe to a new country surrounded by people he doesn't know who all sound very strange to him. I bet it's a bit overwhelming for the poor boy!"

"Then why did they move here to England, then? Why didn't they just stay in America, where they were happy?"

She ran her fingers through her hair. "Rachel Jones and I have been friends for a very long time. She went to uni here in London with me, so she is familiar with the area as well, and loves it here. So when your father had a job opportunity here that Mr. Jones could take, a much better job that the one he had in America, they decided to come over."

"But that's not fair to Alfred at all!" he argued.

"Life's not always fair, love," she sighed, putting her arm around his shoulder, "But with your help, I'm sure the boy can adjust to the English lifestyle. Now run along to school now. He'll be here by the time you get home."

* * *

Just as his mother had said, as soon as Arthur had entered his house, the blue-eyed boy was there. It was hard to miss him, not two seconds after he had walked in with his father, the little boy ran into him to give him a welcome hug. He ran into him hard, causing him to go back and hit his head on the door. However, it didn't hurt _that _bad, and a part of him felt flattered that the little git was so happy to see him, so he didn't protest.

"Oh, _now _you're happy," Mrs. Kirkland called from the living-room across from the entryway. She stood up, "Just a few minutes ago he was crying that he missed his parents." She smirked as Arthur grew red, and Alfred quickly let go.

"Well that's our boy, Arthur," Mr. Kirkland smiled, putting his coat away in the closet, "What about him w_ouldn't _make a young man happy?" He winked.

"Oh but _of course_," she she replied, putting her hands on her hips while her smirk grew larger. Arthur scowled, embarrassed.

"You mean _other _people love Artie, too?" Alfred asked with a slight concerned look on his face. He turned and looked up at him directly in the face. "You like _me _best, though, right?"

"W-Well," Arthur started, not knowing how to respond, "You are my favorite four year old American, I guess." _Although, technically speaking, you are also my _least _favorite at the same time._

"Yay!" he hugged him again, "_That's _good enough for me!"

The adults both laughed. "Why don't you two run along to Arthur's room?" his mother asked, lightly pushing them towards that general direction.

"Okay!" Alfred glowed, grabbing the older boy's hand, pulling him along. Arthur simply sighed and followed. He knew it was going to be a long evening.

"What do you want to play?" he asked unemotionally as they both entered his room.

"SUPER HEROES!" he exclaimed.

"H-How about something else?"

"Aw, how come? I _love _super heroes! I wanna be one when _I _grow up!"

"Interesting wish."

"So? Wanna play?"

"As much as I'd love to, I'm a fourth year. I no longer play such games." Actually, that was only partially true. There were still many children in his class that played games like that. However, Arthur felt that he had outgrown it, and had always opted to sit in the corner reading while the other children played. He didn't really care about being left alone. He liked it that way and, at any rate, the other children were much too childish for him to get along with.

"What's a fourth year?"

"I believe it's called _third grade _in the States."

"Ohh, I see. So. Let's play!" Arthur groaned. He might as well give in.

Several hours of this later, Arthur was totally worn. Every time he tried to convince Alfred to play something else, however, he'd just grow fussy until he'd agree to play again. Finally, however, he was saved by his mother.

"Boys! Dinnertime," she called from downstairs.

"Yay!" the younger boy cried out, grabbing the worn out boy's hand and pulling him along. Arthur didn't understand how he could be so very..._energetic_.

As they reached the table, Arthur noticed some greasy bags with a familiar yellow "M" written on them.

"Since I heard you love it so much, I told Mr. Kirkland here to run and pick us up something to eat. Don't worry, your mum told me exactly what you like!"

"HAMBURGER!" Alfred squealed, and rubbed his stomach in a very exaggerated way. _Children._

They ate silently. Alfred had atrocious table manners, but Arthur let it slide due to his age. Slowly, Alfred took a bite of his own burger. He didn't really like McDonalds that much, but he felt that it would be rude to complain, so he ate all of his food up.

"I'm done!" Alfred proclaimed after he was finished, "Let's go watch a movie, Artie!"

"That's a great idea!" his mother agreed, "Arthur has a lot of G-rated movies, don't you now?"

"I guess," Arthur agreed. A movie seemed like a better idea than running around like before.

They settled on a simple Disney classic movie that both of them had probably seen a dozen times before. Arthur's TV was directly across from his bed, so the two had opted to just lay down already, although it took Alfred some considerable convincing, as he claimed that he wasn't tired and didn't want to go to sleep.

However, not ten minutes into the movie, the young boy had fallen asleep, snuggled in Arthur's arms.

This surprised Arthur a lot. Sure, he said that he really liked him, but he didn't expect him to fall asleep in his arms so quickly and easily. He was a cute little boy, he had to admit, especially all quiet and asleep. He was rather likable in this state. Arthur simply stared into the younger boy's face, innocent and soft, and pushed his hair out of his face leaving his forehead totally exposed. He let out a whine and snuggled closer into him. Arthur simply kissed the top of his head before falling asleep himself.

_I guess I can look after you_, he thought to himself.

* * *

_Rather short chapter, I guess. Well, I'm totally out of practice at writing OTL_

_I hope you guys enjoyed, regardless! Don't worry, they'll be getting older before long, and a plot will slowly emerge!_

_Reviews would make me very happy!_


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